Walking, walking, walking… a day spent walking around Perth. But first… down to the hotel restaurant to make the most of the “free breakfast.”

We could just see the river from the hotel-room window — so down to the river to view the Swan Bells, then off for a lap of the CBD, an attempt to orient ourselves. I was impressed by the number of cyclists around, and especially near one office building where a bike rack has been placed solely for the use of couriers! The public transport looks good too — the CATs are free buses on intersecting loops, a bus every seven minutes, hop on and hop off whenever you like.

A restorative coffee in what may have been the most expensive coffee shop in Perth, then it was off to Northbridge to seek accommodation for tonight. Not particularly fussy, our criteria were “something with more atmosphere and less price.” The Governer Robinson filled both, an excellent find in one of the brochures I’d picked up at the airport.

Caught the Blue CAT back down to the river, then walked off in the direction of Kings Park.

Foot access was up a very steep path, laid out with plaques commemorating the WWII campaign along the Kokoda trail. A very effective mixing of the steep trail and the historic plaques — each time we stopped to catch a breath, the next plaque drew you in to the saga of the military campaign.

At the top, time to relax and lie on the grass, then stroll around and look at the myriad of banksias. On the way back down we decided to try and visit the old Swan Brewery — a myriad of fences and closed off paths conspiring against us. Eventually we found our way back down the path we’d first entered by, then had to walk alongside a main road to get to the brewery! An interesting enough place, but very little of the brewery remains, its now an up-market hotel and conference centre.

By now time zones and holidays caught us out — by the time we started heading back, the buses had stopped, so it was a very long walk! Peaceful enough walking along the river, it seemed a very enjoyable ride home for the cyclists who passed.

Walking around Northbridge in the evening, a Spanish restaurant caught our eye, so we stepped inside for a paella. Sitting down to eat, Jo glanced over my shoulder to the next table — the same four Frenchmen who were in Duxton’s winebar last night.

A magnificent meal, we couldn’t eat it all. If all our dinners are like this it’s going to be a good week!

Where?

Perth